


The Car Scene

by ArkadyFinch (ArkadyFlinch)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Drama, car crashes, confronting an old abuser, murdering that old abuser, music no one else can hear but you, references to eldritch otherbeings, super powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 21:56:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12045081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArkadyFlinch/pseuds/ArkadyFinch
Summary: A lone driver in the night finds they have a stowaway, and said stowaway makes demands that he really shouldn't be making, considering.





	The Car Scene

**Author's Note:**

> Background:: This short was written in 2012 and it has always gone by the name The Car Scene. Part of a larger story so if you don't know what's going on that's okay!  
> The main point of the story was expressive, and one day I hope to rewrite it. If/when I do, I will post it as a 2nd chapter here.

They pulled into the highway and relaxed, sinking back in their seat, letting out a small sigh as they prepared for the long drive ahead. Their eyes unfocused, and their lips opened slightly. The foot that wasn't applying steady pressure to the gas tapped an uneven rhythm on the floor of the small car.  
The road was empty this time of night, so they drove at their own pace, neither speeding recklessly nor exactly obeying the posted speed limit. Trees rose out of the darkness and flashed by, illuminated briefly in the headlights before the small car left them behind. They saw reflected light in the gloom, a pair of eyes in the darkness, gone before they could try to determine what it was.  
The car traveled through the night, and the driver traveled in silence.  
The radio was off, and the only sounds were the low roar of the engine, the occasional bump in the highway.  
And the creaking of the passenger seat behind them.  
"What do you want, Zane?"  
"...Can we pull over?"  
The driver didn't answer, their mouth set in a thin line.  
"I'm not going to. We can talk like this. Quietly."  
Their voice was low, and even, keeping the same controlled volume. When the passenger replied they stiffened and turned their head, as if the noise disturbed them.  
"I can use sign language if we pull over. So you don't have to deal with the noise."

"As much as I hate noise, I hate the thought of you trying something more. Keep your voice down, though. Please."

They reached to their collar, where a pair of earplugs hung about their neck. They inserted one, and sighed again, closing their eyes.  
"What do you want this time."

The passenger shifted closer, leaning forward, placing his hands on their seat as he looked at the driver.  
The driver shied away from the hand on their seat, lip curling.  
"Please don't touch me."

"Watch the road."

"I am."  
The driver glared at the passenger, "Just tell me what you want."

"I want you back."

A snarl broke the silence between the two and the driver swerved slightly, hands tight on the steering wheel.

"No."

"But I have the team's cooperation. They are willling to get back together. All we need is to get you and we can get everyone's powers back. Open the portal, pull out Sam and the jobs done."

"Too bad you don't have my cooperation."

His hand tightened on the edge of their seat.

"Look we are so close to fixing everything-"

"Not everything."

"And we are gonna make everything right-"

"By doing something very very wrong."

"We can fix that after we get our powers back."

"After you get your powers back."

"Will you stop interrupting me?!"

They winced as the passenger raised his voice, and glared at him.

"Why? Does it suck not being listened to? How's it feel, Zane?"

Zane pursed his lips, biting back a retort. He took a moment to collect himself, and he looked out the window to the darkened woods surrounding the road.  
"Look, I'm sorry for what I've done, I will make it up to you as soon as we fix this, I promise."

"How are you going to make it up to me? You sound like a salesman. So many promises, so many things you'll do only after you've gotten what you want. It's all different now that you know I'm useful to you, right?"

"You can join with the team, we'll be friends, like the good old days. I'm willing to help you work through your issues-"

A hiss this time, coming from the drivers lips, "Please don't start this again, not when you're asking me for a favor. You did break into my car and wait for who knows how many hours for me to drive off. Don't let all this stalking go to waste Zane."

The bitterness in their tone silenced him for a minute, as he looked at the person driving. They looked the same as ever, but small, subtle changes had been made to the lines of their face, the sunken cheeks, the hollows under their eyes, and the sneer that seemed ready to twist their lips at any moment. The round curves of baby fat that had given them a warm, youthful look were gone, and all that was left were hard lines and suspicion.

"I'm sorry for what happened. It was for your own good though."

They released the wheel and turned to face Zane, teeth bared in fury, "Do not test me, Zane. I am not the child you knew. Do not act like what you did to me was right. Do not pretend that I've forgiven you simply because I am giving you a chance at apologizing in earnest this time." As they spoke their hands moved, ghosting the signs as they spat the words out of their lips. After a moment, their hands curled into fists and bit into the seat beneath them. Their head turned to glare at him eye-to-eye.

Zane had braced himself the second they'd let go of the wheel, clawing on his seatbelt and waving at them to turn back around in a panic.

The engine revved, and they winced, placing their hands over their ears. Despite no longer having a driver, the car's path remained in the lane. Zane saw the wheel turning and making the minute corrections the drivers soft hands had been doing just moments before. The gas, hidden somewhere in the darkness beneath the dash, was also being seen to, even as the driver pulled their legs up and hugged their knees.

They popped the other ear plug in and murmuered something under their breath, hands fidgeting with a ring on their finger. They swung their legs over to rest on the passenger seat and they sat ther chin on the drivers seat, looking back at Zane.

"I am not ever helping you again. I would like to, but last time I did you made me think I was a monster. I know better now."

Their eyes shifted to look out the window, hands busy twirling the ring.

Zane tried to regain his composure. They'd obviously gotten stronger, their control over the steering wheel was frankly amazing, he felt his mouth go dry at the sight. They were the answer, he knew it. He could get his powers back if only they consented to opening the portal.

"Mori, look, I know I hurt you before, and I said I was sorry. What else do you want me to do?"

" _Die_ "

Their lips hadnt moved, and it seemed as if they didn't hear the word that was hissed in Zanes ear. A chill, sharp as ice, shot up his spine and he felt like spiderwebs were coating his side, where the voice had come from. He rubbed his neck, swllowing thickly.

The engine revved again, speedometer needle rising up into the apex of its arc and beginning to descend to the right.

"I want you to give it up."

His jaw clenched. A brief look of fury spasmed over his face as he fought back the urge to yell.  
"After 10 years I am not going to just let go." His voice shook with the effort spent controlling his tone. Shouting would only make them shut down.

"If you'd let go sooner people wouldn't have been hurt." The driver broke eye contact and gnawed on the corner of their thumb, eyes falling to their feet, still tapping and shaking, more and more violent the longer this discussion went on. "I don't even want an apology anymore, I just want to make sure you never ever hurt anyone again."

Zane finally began to take in the details. The small things that a few years ago he would not have missed.  
The way the speedometer was steadily inching into the red. The way Mori's arms had crossed and their posture had tensed. The click of their seatbelt unbuckling.

"Mori what are you doing?"

They looked at him out of the corner of their eyes, and in their voice he heard laughter. "Nothing."

" _Nothing._ "

Zane heard a second voice echoing their own, this one right next to his ear. This voice, unlike their own, was rough and chittering, no trace of voice itself, all hard consonants and air breathing down his neck.

"Mori, whatever they're telling you to do-"

The car accelerated further, engine beginning to reach a high-pitched buzzing that shook the car. The driver door was wrenched open in a shriek of rending metal. Freezing cold winter air rushed into the vehicle, drowning out his words. Mori slid backwards, out of the car, body whisked away by the same wind that stole his breath away.  
Zane reached down for his seatbelt but claws bit into his arm and a heavy weight slammed into his body, crushing the air out of his chest.  
" _Time to pay, vermin_."

The voice was a low and quiet, yet he heard it over the wind, over the roaring of the engine, over the pounding of his heart.

The steering wheel crinkled, hand prints denting the leather as whatever had been in the car with them took the wheel, laughing into the deafening wind.  
Zane watched, paralyzed, as the wheel took a sudden spin to the left.

The car followed soon after, rolling down the street in a shower of sparks and grinding metal. It slid until it ran out of road, and began tumbling down into the ditch. With a final groan, it came to rest upside down, metal carapace dented and crumpled into a small, defeated mess.

A lone figure stood at the edge of the ditch. They stood for a while, watching for movement within the metal coffin. When the sole passenger of the car refused, or perhaps was unable to make an appearance, a small smile split their wane face.  
The earplugs came out, and the figure basked in the silence of a cold night on a deserted road.  
They slowly turned and began limping down the highway. No blood marred their clothes, and they looked as if they'd survived their escape without a single mark. Later, bruises would bloom on their dusky skin. Handprints, two four, six, running down their sides.

Their backpack, left behind in the crash, thumped onto their back, a little torn and rough, but mostly intact. There was no telling how the contents had fared, but they took what they were given.

It was a small price to pay, considering.

Next, their jacket, rooted out from the trunk of the car some 300 yards back, was gently placed over their shoulders, fighting the chill. They laughed silently and touched their chin, extending the hand outwards.

As they walked, they put on the jacket then slung the pack over their shoulder, kicking the snow with their boots. Behind their long, dragging steps, two, four, six prints followed suit.

Occasionally, snow would be swept from their shoulders, the thick, heavy curls of their hair would be plucked away from their back, and the silence of the night would be broken by three different voices ringing in laughter.

It would be a long walk to the next city, but Mori was patient. They enjoyed the quiet.  
And, fortunately, they were never alone.


End file.
